Teeth are falling out left and right, here in Clegg house. About a week ago, Zoey lost a tooth. It was the first one she’s lost in almost a year and a half (the Tooth Fairy had a lovely reprieve). Incidentally, she still hasn’t grown a replacement for that last tooth over a year ago, but the dentist says it’s fine.
Eleanor had noticed her first wiggly tooth a few weeks ago and has been on pins and needles waiting for it to come out. She jealously watched Zoey lose her tooth last week, sighing mournfully as she lamented, “I wish I knew what it was like to lose a tooth.” She has been chomping into carrots and apples and furiously wiggling at every opportunity. I have never seen a child more determined to make a tooth come out.
Last night, I came out of the bedroom from putting Dinah to bed to find Eleanor back out of bed in the kitchen, pale as a sheet. In an effort to lose the tooth, she bit onto her favorite blankie and had Zoey pull on the blanket as hard as she could. The tooth came out, alright, but since it wasn’t completely ready to do so yet it hurt a bit and bled quite a lot. I’m not sure if it was the pain, the sight of the blood, or the fear and excitement involved with it all (most likely, it was all three), but poor Ellie had a strong vagal response to it all. She went pale, sweaty and queasy. Zach had staunched most of the bleeding with a tissue, and I had her rinse her mouth a few more times then cuddled her on the couch and explained the physical reaction she was having.
Once she got past the queasiness (and had received many reassurances that future teeth would be easier to lose), the excitement over the Tooth Fairy returned and she excitedly deposited the tooth in our special Tooth Fairy pillow I made when Zoey lost her first tooth. It’s a good thing, too, because she has not one, not two, but three more wiggly teeth.